


The Replacements

by Percygranger



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: 2017 backlog, Adoption, Canon Compliant, Child Death, Episode: s02e21 Deadlock, Gen, Medical, Nightmares, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Percygranger/pseuds/Percygranger
Summary: Harry has a bad time after narrowly escaping death. Ensign Wildman makes a difficult choice.
Relationships: The Doctor (Star Trek) & Kes (Star Trek)
Kudos: 20





	The Replacements

**Author's Note:**

> I recently rewatched the entirety of Voyager, having grown up watching reruns of it on CBS. In keeping with most Star Treks, the first few seasons aren't...great. I hold great affection for all the characters, and was horrified by season 2, episode 21, which included (spoilers!) split realities, organ stealing, child death (one version of Naomi Wildman died in childbirth!), and Harry Kim dies, y'all. None of this was never mentioned again in the series. 
> 
> So, obviously, I had to write some followup scenes.

Harry woke up, screaming, as he fell to the floor. He’d been trying and failing to get away from the Vidiians, and finally managed to wake himself up from the nightmare where he’d been pinned down, in silent agony as his insides were razed, a ship for scrap. He was grateful to wake up and know it was a dream, a nightmare, even as he panted desperately. Blinking hard, he tried not to cry from the echoing fear of an almost-death, in another, same world where everyone had almost certainly died, organs taken with no care for the living, working bodies they were already in. And if they hadn’t gone that way, they’d been blown up, given mercy by the self-destruct Harry had only managed to avoid. The Captain had told him that one, how he’d almost died, coming through barely a second before. How close he’d been to failing his one mission, a child in his arms.

Patting himself down was becoming a familiar, humiliating habit, assuring himself that everything was still in place. He tried to only do it in private, although the others didn’t seem to mind, and would even do it for him, on occasion. B’Elanna was the worst offender, having seen the other-him die, sucked out into space. And wasn’t that another nightmare in the making. Somehow, he couldn’t be afraid of it nearly as much. At least space was quick, familiar in how it froze and suffocated you. Space was just...there, a reality you had to accept, living on a ship with a fragile hull. It didn’t mean to kill you, or want anything, it just did what it had to do, scattering and gathering atoms according to its laws. 

He could breathe easier now, meditating on a different form of his gruesome death. Harry wasn’t, and was, Harry. There had been two of him, and the other had died, and now, being the only one left, Harry had to go on being Harry. Sometimes he thought of how interesting it might have been to have met himself, the way Kes or the Captain had. To know what you were thinking, a living mirror. At the same time, it creeped him out, because what could you do with that, really? Having the same thoughts, it was worse than a clone, or a hologram, because you were the same until you...weren’t. Divergence. That was the messy bit. 

Harry shook his head and groaned. “Computer, what time is it?” 

“The current time is 11:30pm.” 

“Right,” he sighed, “I...am going to use a replicator ration on something soothing, avoid Neelix, and go right back to sleep, with no more nightmares. Totally, absolutely.”

The computer didn’t respond, and Harry sighed again, and moved to stand. He didn’t have much hope for uninterrupted sleep anytime soon, honestly, but what else was he supposed to do? 

“I can’t take her.”

The Doctor hesitated, caught off guard. “But she’s your child. I thought you’d be pleased to have one that’s...alive.” He winced, aware that his wording wasn’t particularly sensitive. 

Kes looked pained, as well, standing beside him, which did not help, but also did. It was so nice to have a model for the empathy his programming lacked. He really had to tell her that one day, when he wasn’t trying to convince certain Ensigns to accept the phase-shifted version of their child.

“But is she really mine? I mean, physically, she comes from me, just another version, I guess. But mine-” Ensign Wildman broke off, swallowing hard. She glanced at the incubator where her previous child had, indeed, failed to thrive. 

“She’s not exactly the same, no, of course not,” Kes broke in, offering a hug, which the Ensign accepted, small broken noises muffled by their closeness. 

Sighing in relief at not being the hug-ee, the Doctor shifted the baby in his arms. She was covered in the same-but-not cloth they’d used to swaddle the other infant after birth. The other same-but-not cloth that was still wrapped around the other’s form in the morgue’s cold storage, waiting for appropriate rites, when her mother decided what those might be. The more the Doctor considered this, the more he started to understand. They had two babies, one was dead, one alive, and both had an impact. You couldn’t just forget one when you had the other. 

“Perhaps think of it as having twins,” the Doctor said, after the two women had moved away from each other slightly, “Or being offered an adoption after suffering a loss. Granted, it would have been nice to be consulted before it happened, but she’s here now, and you’re here, too.” 

Now it was Kes’s turn to look relieved. “That’s right, a twin of sorts. A refugee from another place. Can we, can you, really turn her away?” 

“I…” Ensign Wildman didn’t rush to judgement, taking time to consider her response, which the Doctor appreciated. She might’ve been hormonally challenged, still recovering from the ordeal of birth, but she was also a keen mind who took the time to consider her options. Overall, the easiest (if only) pregnancy he’d had the pleasure to help with. 

“I can’t do that, no. Turning her away would be…” Shaking her head, the Ensign went on, “I have milk, and she needs it, if nothing else.” 

“A practical decision,” the Doctor praised, “Would you like to hold her?” 

The Ensign took a breath, “Yes, thank you, Doctor.” She held out her hands, and the Doctor delivered the baby to her with all due care. 

Taking note of the smile that formed as Ensign Wildman looked down on her new/old child, the Doctor felt that this would probably work out. Bonding hormones were a wonderful, ruthless type of thing, and if not, well. There were always other options. He’d felt very proud, bringing a child into the world, and he knew the rest of the crew would help them out. The baby would be loved and cared for, one way or another. The Doctor would make sure of it.


End file.
